


Masquerade

by EllieL



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Background Luke/Lando - Freeform, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:47:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieL/pseuds/EllieL
Summary: Han and Leia, and their friends, attend a galactic masquerade ball, and have an even better evening once they return home.Written for the 2020 HanLeia Trick-or-Treat prompts "Late night Halloween smut" and "attending a costume/masquerade ball." Definitely a smutty "trick"!
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40
Collections: Hanleia 2020 Halloween Trick or Treat Challenge





	Masquerade

He was really jealous of Chewie. All he had done for a costume was put on a little hair dye and a hood, and called his Ewok costume done. Han, on the other hand, had to actually put on something besides a spacer’s vest and blaster, and that was well outside his comfort zone.

But to surprise Leia, he’d agreed to do it. He had no idea what she’s be going as, since she refused to tell him, emphatically staying that he’d find out at the Masque Ball, along with the rest of the galaxy. Given that he lived with the woman, he found it inordinately frustrating. Especially as he pulled on the ridiculous flounced shirt of an old-fashioned Corellian pirate, which was almost as hideous as the bright red velvet pantaloons that went with it.

He tried to tell himself it was at least comfortable, as he adjusted the eye patch and attached a replica of an antique metal sword. And it was, actually, as silly as he felt. At least he could sit down easily and move freely; he was always ready for a quick exit. He exited the Falcon, where Leia had forced him to prepare while she took over the apartment for her own preparations, along with Chewie, and the two friends headed, more than a little reluctantly, to the party.

Formal events were not his favorite, but this was more of a celebratory one than a diplomatic one, so it had the potential to at least be a little bit fun, with live music and an open bar. And Luke and Lando were both attending too, so he’d have the entertainment of whatever Lando had dressed himself as; he already knew Luke was just wearing his old pilot’s uniform, which he thought shouldn’t even count as a costume. As they walked, he and Chewie speculated about Lando’s potential costume choices, given some of what they’d seen him wear in the past for a regular night on the town.

The chaos of color and chatter and already-somewhat-intoxicated beings when they arrived at the Galactic Gallery was overwhelming, and he worried for a minute about even being able to find Leia in the madness. But he realized that both she and Luke could use the Force to find him if needed, or even just logic--he’d always be hiding in a dim corner near the bar at events like this, on the rare occasion he did attend. Looking at Chewie and shrugging, they made their way inside, took in the mayhem, and got themselves ales and stood at a table near the darkest corner of the room. They weren’t there long before Lando and Luke found them; Luke was dressed exactly as expected, in his old bright orange pilot’s flight suit, but both Han and Chewie lost their bets with each other on Lando’s outfit when he twirled off a shimmering gold cape to reveal the purple and green checkered costume of a harlequin.

Conversation was difficult over all the noise in the room, babbling in dozens of languages echoing off the stonework and not at all helped by the cacophony someone was calling music coming from a stage at the other end of the hall. But abruptly all noise seemed to die down at once, and Han noticed all heads turning toward the entrance.

When he looked, he understood why. Leia had arrived.

Dressed as the Hutt Slayer.

His brow rose, and a grin spread across his face. Then he noticed everyone else ogling how little she was wearing and frequently failing to take in the bold statement she was making with the chain she was dragging behind her as she boldly made her way across the ballroom. Beings parted as she went, and it was a good ten seconds before conversation and music resumed, though many eyes still stayed on her.

She strode purposefully, crossing the expanse as steadily as her legs would carry her, head aloft and long braid swinging behind her. But he could see the tension in the way she carried herself, and knew she was worried she’d been too daring. Without a word, she approached the table and tucked herself in close to Han, and snagged his glass of ale, taking a long sip.

“That’s really--” Luke started, but was cut off by Lando stomping on his foot.

“You need your own drink, Princess?” Han pushed his drink towards her, studying her.

“Just borrowing a little liquid courage.”

<You do not need it, but I will get you your own drink,> said Chewie, nodding towards the bar before ambling in that direction.

Han wrapped an arm around her shoulders, enjoying the bare skin under his fingers as he stroked over her arm until he felt her take a deep breath and relax. Only then did he lean over and kiss the top of her head quickly, before standing up again as Chewie returned with two drinks, wine for Leia and another ale for him.

“Thanks, pal.”

The silence around the table was a little awkward as they all drank and looked at each other. It was finally broken by Luke. “Wanna dance, Lei?”

Swallowing her wine in two gulps, she nodded hesitantly, then glanced up at Han. “Yeah. Okay.”

Han pressed his palm to the small of her back reassuringly, and watched her go off with Luke. They drew looks, but far fewer than she would have with him. The music was fast, and they moved in time with it, giving Han plenty to admire about Leia’s outfit and figure. Half the room probably was as well, and Han put his drink down and was about to go cut in when Lando tapped him on the arm. 

“Mind if I take the next dance with her, old buddy?”

He didn’t exactly  _ mind _ her dancing with Lando, but would rather have gone himself. But Leia made her own choices, and it wasn’t his place to make it for her. “That’s up to her.”

With a nod and a bold swirl of color, Lando headed across the floor, leaving Han to share a knowing look with Chewie. As they watched the harlequin approach the dancing couple, the Wookie laughed, and the couple stumbled to a stop. There was an awkward moment where it wasn't clear whether who Lando was asking to dance, then Leia laughed and spun away with him, drawing all the eyes in the room. Luke watched for a moment too, then wandered back toward their table with a stop at the bar, and a grin on his face.

The evening proceeded much like that, all of them taking turns dancing with Leia, though Han took the preponderance of dances. But it was almost too much, dancing with her as everyone watched and he couldn’t touch all that glorious skin that was on display. He knew what message she was sending with the outfit, and he wouldn’t disrespect her statement by touching her in a manner inappropriate for a formal event, no matter how much he wanted to lick every centim of her bare skin.

That could wait until later that night.

Drinks kept flowing, and they were all more than a little drunk and footsore before the music started to slow down and the crowds quieted down and thinned out. Chewie was the first to depart, with little more than a wave as the other four were heading out onto the dance floor again. Then Luke and Lando swept out together, in a riot of clashing clothing and laughter.

Both Han and Leia were a little intoxicated as they made their way to the exit, but he was wise enough to ask, “You wanna get a cab?”

She was leaning against him, and he could feel her nod, and also feel all the bare skin that he knew she wouldn’t want to walk home baring, even in the diplomatic district. Plus, her shoes were definitely not up to the walk.

They managed to behave themselves in the cab, which wasn’t too difficult since it was only a five minute ride. But her tits did look fantastic in that outfit, and he couldn’t help but stare at them as they bounced around a turn and she slid into the side of him, catching herself with a giggle and one hand tangling in his ridiculous velvet pantaloons.

“Are you as eager to get these off as I am to get this metal bikini off?”

“Yeah.” He ran one finger along the metal where it dug into her hip. “Can’t believe you wore this thing. I thought you scrapped it.”

“It was evidence, for a while. Then after that story that blasted through the news cycle last month about the Hutts, I thought it was important to send a message.”

“It’s quite the message.” He was close to kissing her, as the cab stalled to a halt in front of their building.

When their apartment door slid closed behind them, he wasted no time in ripping off his own flouncy shirt, then reaching for the metal clasps of her top. It released with a horrible squeak, which had them both laughing for a second, before their lips met again ashis fingers found her nipples, and they stumbled into the living room. She’d pushed him back towards the couch, and he let himself tumble onto it, limbs akimbo. Not one to waste an opportunity, Leia pounced on him, removing his pantaloons so quickly he wasn’t quite sure what was happening. But he did appreciate her wicked grin at seeing he had nothing on under them; he didn’t see any reason why he should put on pants underneath, just because he was in a silly costume—the velvet was actually kinda nice in that aspect.

Then the only velvet on his mind was the velvet heat of her mouth as her lips found his eager and waiting cock. It came to full attention with a few well-practiced strokes of her tongue, leaving him groaning and groping for her shoulders. He was far too drunk to make this last long if she kept that up. With a long, lingering kiss to the head, she released him from her mouth and slid up his body, until her metallic bikini bottom hit his knee.

“Fuck, that’s gotta go.” He rolled, pushing her back into the couch as he slid off of it onto the floor, fumbling with the clasps at her hips. Not one to waste time, though, his tongue was already teasing at her thighs, as she shifted eagerly against him. 

Finally, the damned garment gave way, and he dove into the center of her, where he considered just planting himself until morning. It was more likely he’d pass out there, though, so he went right in with his tongue, licking up the length of her until she cried out as his tongue slid across her already engorged clit. It wouldn’t take her long, either, he realized. Probably working in his favor, he thought, as he redoubled his efforts until she was crying out something that might have been the first syllable of his name in breathy pants, then nearly decapitated him with her thighs as she came, holding him in place as he licked her through it, slowing his attentions as she came down.

She was still struggling for breath when he pulled away, licking his way up her body. He detoured around her areolas, then giving her nipples some focused attention and sending her writhing again, before meeting her lips in a long, deep kiss. Then there was an awkward tussle, as he sort of fell over her, and tried to roll over. But neither of them were quite coordinated enough for that in their impaired states, and slid onto the floor instead, a tangle of bare limbs and laughter.

Eventually, he managed to sit up, leaning back against the couch, and tugged her onto his lap. Their kisses grew sloppy as his arousal grew again, and she wriggled her hips against him, trying to find the right positioning and her own balance. With one hand on his shoulders and his on her hip, she sank down onto him, perhaps a little more quickly than usual, bottoming out on his lap with a little squeak and wide eyes, as if she’d been surprised by her own actions. He grinned crookedly at her, before kissing her again, and rolling his hips into her. 

She broke the kiss to moan, then nip his neck, tongue tracing his pulse as it thrummed beneath his skin. He could feel it pulsing within her too, and knew this wouldn’t last long. For either of them, he could tell from the way she began rocking against him with a firm, steady roll of her hips. Barely lifting off of him as she contracted her inner muscles in a way she knew drove him right over the edge. He did his best to meet her with a lift of his own hips, and a swirl of his tongue over hers, grazing the roof of her mouth, and two fingers teasing a nipple every time she began to rise off his lap.

Leaning further forward, the other nipple brushed across his chest, snagging in the rough hair there, sporadically brushing his own. When he gasped and broke their kiss after the second time it happened, she brought one hand down from where it had been balancing on his shoulder to rest on his chest, one thumb brushing across his puckered nipple, nails of her other fingers digging into his pectoral muscles a bit as she did so. He moaned, the sound muffled by her lips firm against his.

“Gods...Leia….”

In response, she picked up her pace against him, rising a little further, falling onto him a bit harder. A twist of her hips as she ground her clit into his pubic bone was enough to send her to the edge.

“Just--Han--right--”

The hand still on her hips helped pull her down more firmly against him, and he thrust up into her that much harder, knowing how much she liked that little roll of his own hips at the end of his stroke into her. There was a franticness to their motions now, rougher, ungraceful, but relentlessly moving towards their climaxes. He couldn’t keep kissing her, could barely breathe as his hips jerked upwards, almost of their own accord, as he head flopped forward and his teeth grazed her shoulder.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, though not long after he felt the first thrum of his release ripple through his body, he felt her begin to contract around him. She nearly screamed his name, right into his ear, then bit down hard on her lip. But he wanted to hear her, would happily go deaf hearing her crying his name like that, so he found the strength to raise his head to kiss her, the vibration of her muffled cry echoing into him.

Then both of them, overwhelmed, toppled sideways onto the floor. They broke into laughter as their limbs intertwined and they tried to find purchase. Eventually they gave up and collapsed onto one another in a messy heap, though he’d somehow landed with his ridiculous velvet pantaloons pillowing his head. So he tugged her until she was resting on top of him. They needed to rest, he felt sure, before either of them attempted to make it to their bed.

When they woke again, pale, early morning light was just starting to spill through the vast windows of the living room, casting a pastel pink light over the room. Leia shifted on top of him, waking him. There was a mutual groan, and their foreheads leaned against one another.

“Bedroom, before it gets too bright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll get some water,” Han answered, groaning again as he sat up. Then he offered a hand as he scrabbled to his own feet. She took it, fumbling up beside him and leaning against him, both of them still and wrapped up in each other for a moment. With a kiss to the top of her head, he pulled back, squeezing her biceps.

She nodded, and shuffled off down the dim hallway, as he headed to the dark kitchen for water, and maybe some hangover pills. He didn’t both turning any of the lights on, just wandered back down the hall by instinct. Leia was already asleep, snoring lightly when he placed her glass of water very precisely by the tablet on her night table. Blinking down at her, he drank half his glass of water with a pair of the hangover pills, then stumbled over to his side of the bed. He barely got settled his glass down on his own night table before he collapsed back onto the bed beside her, asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
